The Power of Hope

I watch the Operation Christmas Child DVD and see those beautiful smiling children while the background song lyrics proclaim, “It’s the gift. It’s the power of hope.” I’ve been so in need of that hope.

Yesterday I stood in the church basement packing shoeboxes by myself. Negative thoughts started to throw their weight around like WWE wrestlers. Maybe I should forget about packing boxes. I could just buy stuff on sale and send it to the Processing Center for fillers. And next: why not forget about OCC entirely? I could lie in the hammock and read books

I contemplated the way I’d been procrastinating about making phone calls—a dreaded task for me—and mourned about how the expected sale to give me clothing to put into the boxes at a low price never materialized. I thought of how little help I’ve had with packing. I sank lower in the quicksand of self-pity. Hopeless.

Then a woman who has committed to pray for me phoned to see if I was okay and asked for a list of updated prayer requests. Her call brought a sliver of hope. My phone chirped again bringing news that a church in a neighboring county will be a relay center and collect shoeboxes in their area. The sliver widened.

And today another call brought the potential of doing a large packing party this year—an idea I’d abandoned as being logistically impossible. Maybe I won’t have to spend so many lonely hours in the church basement after all. The light is starting to shine again.

Hope does have power.